


"Madam! I own the FBI!"

by Hectatess



Series: Late-night Discord plot-bunnies [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Case Fic, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Gen, but also made up folklore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22884859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hectatess/pseuds/Hectatess
Summary: When people are mysteriously disappearing, the boys go investigate, as one would expect.The monster they are facing is very ancient, and very dangerous, but Dean can't stop chuckling about its name.It makes it very hard to take the thing serious, until he gets cornered by it.Luckily, this time Cas kept up with the references.
Series: Late-night Discord plot-bunnies [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1375408
Comments: 14
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another Discord plot bunny fic.  
> Thanks to my dear friends who play Castiel and Jack on NotfunnyDean's SPNFamily Discord, we now have a new MOW for the boys!  
> I hope you enjoy this cracky little story.
> 
> Also many thanks to my dear daughter who is responsible for the thing these monsters turn into when ganked. (Not slime, not ashes... you'll see)

James Carpenter rubbed his stomach. He knew he shouldn’t have eaten that tilapia casserole, but it had smelled so good. He groaned and ran to the bathroom for the umpteenth time since last night. After worshipping the porcelain gods, he went downstairs and put the kettle on for some weak tea and readied the toaster. His ex might’ve been a cheating hussie, but she had known how to help his upset tummy every time. 

While waiting on the toast and tea water, James decided to go get the paper. At least he’d have a read if need be. He was glad it was a Saturday. That way he could nap whenever and forget this awful night. He opened the door and groaned. The new paperboy was a lousy throw. The paper never made it halfway past the drive these days. He bent over, causing his poor, maltreated stomach to stab a sharp pain. He picked up the paper and straightened with a soft ‘ow, fuck!’ 

The chipper and frankly annoying voice that called out to him made him wince. Janice from three doors down. One of those ‘perfect’ ladies with immaculately coiffed, blonde hair and too much makeup for his taste. “Good morning, James!” 

His stomach _twisted_ with pain and James knew he’d rather ignore her, but that would be bad manners. So he gathered all his wits and emotional reserves and answered her. “Mh… mornin’.” 

Janice scowled, her plasticine perfect face disfigured and an ugly, hissing sound escaped her. James stared at her, wide eyed. Some spittle dropped on his garden path as Janice approached, and it burned sizzling pits in the flagstones. James gulped and the green, glowing eyes were the last thing he saw.

oooOooo

“Hey guys,” Sam called from behind his laptop. “I think I caught a case.” 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Of course. I was just about ready for a night of movies and pizza. When both Sam and Cas levelled him a blank stare, he gave in. “Tell us more, Sam,” he mockingly invited, dragging a chair towards himself. 

“So get this,” Sam began, and Dean smirked at the familiarity. “In the sleepy little town of Murdock, Illinois several persons have disappeared. The police is not very bothered. They say they were all lonely, withdrawn people, and they might have just packed up and left. Start a new life with a new face or something like that.” 

“But you don’t think so,” Cas shrewdly deducted. Dean smiled. Their angelic friend was getting good at this. Sam sent Cas a proud smile too.

“You’re right, I don’t,” he answered, enlarging a news feed on his screen. “James Carpenter. Lonely, yes. Withdrawn? Not quite. He was divorced, built his new life in their old house, and currently dating one Cynthia Gutlieb. He had been on a date with her, and according to Cynthia, he was planning a vacation with her next month.” 

Intrigued, Dean drew the laptop towards him and read the article. “Huh,” he breathed. “Doesn’t sound like he just rode out. Wait…” He zoomed in on the picture of the cookie cutter house, enlarging it until the flagstone drive filled the screen. “Sammy, Cas, has either of you ever seen this before?” He pointed at some grainy dots. 

Cas hummed and Sam frowned. “That looks like the stone was eaten away by some sort of acid,” Cas remarked, tilting his head. Sam instantly took the laptop and started Charlie’s monster database. 

“Acid… hmmm.” Sam typed rapidly. “Mongolian Death Worm… no way. That’s only been sighted in the Gobi desert. Giant Soldier Ants… no. It’s too far from the plains. Damnit. There are precious little monsters in here that fit the bill. Cas? Do you have any ideas?”

Cas sighed. “Some,” he admitted slowly. “But none that just stand out. We need more information.” 

Dean dropped his head in defeat. “Alright. We’ll check it out,” he groused. “Can we at least go tomorrow? It’s late as is…” Sam glanced at Cas, who smiled indulgently. 

“Sure thing, Dean,” Sam said kindly, patting his shoulder. “Movie and pizza night is safe.” Dean punched the air.


	2. Chapter 2

They pulled up on the cookie cutter house, wearing their fed suits. Cas squatted down on the drive to examine the little holes, his face all concentration and seriousness. 

“Ehm, excuse me…” Dean turned around to find a woman his age, reverse mullet bob haircut, creepy acrylics making her hands seem almost claw like, and a pair of big sunglasses perched on her head. “What are you guys doing here?” 

Sam instantly stepped up, knowing his brother had a very direct way of answering, and although he was improving, subtlety before coffee wasn’t going to happen. “FBI, ma’am,” he gently said, flashing his fake badge. “We are investigating the disappearance of Mr. Carpenter. Did you know him, Ms….?”

“Mrs… Anderson, Janice Anderson.” The lady held out her French manicured hand and eyed Sam up interestedly. “Divorced. So was poor Mr. Carpenter. James was a bit of a weird one, you know. A bit rude, picking up the paper in his robe and such…”

Dean raised his eyebrows and geared up to give the lady a piece of his mind, but Sam intervened. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Carpenter?” She blinked and pulled a thinking pout. 

“I think the day before he disappeared. As he left the house at 7 pm. I think he was going out, or something…” Cas, who had still been on his haunches examining the little holes in the flagstone, rose and squinted at Mrs. Anderson in suspicion. He came over, dusting his hands on his coat.

“You saw Mr. Carpenter leave at 7?” he asked, his soul-searching stare on Mrs. Anderson. She recoiled a bit, and her careful, polite mask cracked a bit. Just a bit, but the skilled Hunters noticed. The colour behind the layers of makeup drained and she blinked rapidly a few times. 

She started to talk, swallowed and restarted. “Well, yes, I-I… I mean, I think it was seven.” Cas narrowed his eyes further and Dean actually felt sorry for the lady. That specific stare had been the predecessor to a swift angel blade to the chest, or a smiting, quite a few times. 

He tapped Cas on the arm. “Leave her be for now, agent. We can ask her more questions later.” Cas blinked and nodded. 

“You’re right. My apologies.”

Mrs. Anderson nodded acceptance and with a flimsy excuse of ‘I have to pick up the kids’, she left a quick as it was possible without looking like she was running.

Dean smirked at her back. “Did she make your spidey sense tingle, Cas?” he asked. Cas scowled at him and Dean laughed freely. 

“I have not been bitten by a radioactive spider, nor do I shoot webbing from my wrists, Dean.” Cas said deadpan. “But I did sense something off. That, paired with the acid burns in the stone, make up one horrible monster.” He actually wasn’t kidding. His face was as serious as it had been while talking about the angel civil war.

“Motel,” Dean concluded, and Cas nodded. “We need privacy to discuss this abomination!” he stated. Sam was already sliding into his seat in Baby, throwing them a ‘let’s go then, slowpokes’ look. Dean shrugged and opened the door for Cas, before slipping in his seat and starting Baby up.

Sam started up his laptop as soon as they’d shed their ‘fed skin’ as Dean called it. “So, Cas,” he said, sitting down to go into Research-mode. “What do you think this might be?” Dean was prepared for almost anything, but what Cas actually said was even beyond that. “I think Janice is really a Kah-Ren.” 

Dean chuckled loudly. “Yeah, her hair and nails, and those damned sunglasses are a bit of a giveaway. But what does that have to do with our monster-du-jour, bud?” Cas threw Sam a questioning look, but Sam just shrugged. “Same question, Cas,” he apologetically said. 

The eye roll those blue eyes did was epic, and Cas actually sighed. “Kah-Ren,” he repeated, but this time he drew out the pause between the words. “A monster birthed out of people’s entitlement. They are extremely rare, and I had never heard of one coming to the American continents. But the acid, it left a faint flowery scent, almost like-” 

“Like that cheap ass perfume smell Janice has surrounding her like a poisonous cloud?” Dean picked up. Cas nodded. 

“Exactly,” he stated. “and that is how Kah-Ren saliva smells, like a cheap cover for body odour. They wreaked havoc just before the French Revolution, but then perfume became an easy death sentence, and they were forced into hiding.”

Sam was typing away, adding all this to his monster database. “What do they do?” he asked, his brows furrowed. Cas curled his lip in distaste and sat back to elaborate. 

“They look like ordinary humans, but always the ones that are slightly better off than most. They pose as the kind of person that is easily offended by little things, and feel like they are entitled to everything because they are better than most people. They are also sticklers for proper manners. Hard to believe that some of history’s most gruesome murders have been committed by Kah-Ren.” Dean bit back a snort-laugh.

“I’m sorry guys, but I just can’t stop thinking of a monster going up to the poor kid at the register, demanding to see the manager…” He actually bent backwards laughing. Sam rolled his eyes and typed on, and Cas blinked at Dean’s shenanigans.

“I assure you, Dean, Kah-Ren are likely to do exactly that,” he said seriously. Dean sank to the floor, hiccupping with laughter now. “Dean, these monsters are extremely difficult to kill,” Cas intoned with a frown. “I am unsure of the procedure as is. Shall I go to the Bunker and research?” 

Dean wiped his eyes. “Nah, buddy. That’s ok. I’ll just go get us some grub, and drinks, and we can search the internet for clues on how to end a Kah-Ren…” He chuckled as he grabbed his keys and left.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean left the grocery store with two brown paper bags full of stuff. He had just put them in the backseat, when the grating nasal voice from earlier that day called out.

“Excuse me… Excuuuuse me! Mr. FBI agent!” Dean repressed a shudder and turned around. Sure enough, Janice Anderson was crossing the street towards him. Silently cursing the fact that Sam was still at the motel with Cas and couldn’t save Dean’s bacon this time, Dean plastered on a fake professional smile and waited for the lady to come over. He didn’t have long to wait.

With long, sure strides, Mrs. Anderson stepped up to him. “Hello again, agent…” she wavered. Dean rummaged in his back pocket and drew out his fake badge. 

“Summers. How may I help you. Mrs. Anderson?” Dean tried not to gag at the strong flowery scent hanging around the woman. It got stronger as she bent over to whisper at him. 

“That other agent? The dark haired one? Is he with you?” She was already glancing around to try and spot Cas, and in the back of Dean’s head, all alarms were blaring loudly. This person, freak, monster, whatever, was trying to get him alone. That never bode well.

“Eh, no. Not yet. Agent Sting and our partner, agent Copeland, are coming over soon, after reporting to the office. We were planning on going out for coffee.” In his mind Dean sent out a desperate prayer to Cas.  _ ‘Dear Castiel, Angel of Thursday. Get Sam and get your asses over here at the Circle K. That Karen is cornering me.’  _ It was an unorthodox prayer, but Dean hoped it got through anyhow.

“Oh.” Janice actually seemed surprised. She regrouped herself quick enough though. “Well, that sounds like fun. But I don’t have much time. I just wanted to show you something.” She took him by the elbow and tugged. A surprisingly strong hand tried to steer Dean away from Baby. 

He shrugged himself free and stepped aside. “I don’t think I should see evidence without my partners, or at least one of them, Mrs. Anderson.” Janice grabbed him again, even tighter now. 

“Oh, but I insist!” she pressured and pulled harder. Dean actually stumbled at the force. An idea struck him, and he pulled free again, this time more obviously. 

“Just let me grab some ehm… evidence bags… and a recorder from my car, please,’ he said hoping the freak would fall for it. Janice nodded and Dean quickly popped the trunk, glad that after the last Vamp hunt, he’d just chucked the machete under a tarp in the top layer, so he didn’t have to pop the secret compartment. He slid the blade down the back of his jeans surreptitiously and grabbed some old plastic ziploc bags. “Alright. I’m set. What do you have to show me, Mrs. Anderson?”

The Kah-Ren led him a ways down the alley between the grocery store and the laundromat. “It’s right here, agent Summers. Right behind that dumpster.” Dean repressed a scoff. He wasn’t that stupid. Did she actually think he’d fall for that? He bent over and examined the dirty alley floor a second, then he turned around. Janice’s face was contorted in a grimace, her eyes glowing green. Dean leapt up, turning to face her, and he drew his machete.

“So Cas was right. You are the freak who took James Carpenter. What did you do, Mom-zilla? Eat him?” The Kah-Ren hissed, her mouth open on a snarl. The droplets of saliva sizzled as they hit the dirt-caked alley floor and the trash bags that were lying next to the overly full dumpster. Dean sighed and raised his arm. “Not even answering? That is rude, you know?” He swung and the blonde head rolled along the alley to stop against a particularly nasty smelling old pizza box. Wiping his machete on his shirt, Dean smirked. “And that’s how you stop a Kah-” A loud wailing stopped him. He turned around to see the chopped off head rolling around, wailing and whining like an entitled toddler in a supermarket isle. “What the hell?”

The sound of shuffling feet had him turn around towards the body. It was rising, two of the plasticine perfect heads now growing from its neck. “How rude,” they snarled in unison. “I demand to ssssee your ssssuperior offisssser, agent Sssummersssss.” Dean looked around to see what the severed head was doing, but it posed no threat except to his nerves, which were starting to fray at the incessant wailing and whining. Glad that that bit didn’t pose an immediate threat, Dean re-focussed on the two-headed Mom-ster in front of him.

“Dean!” That was the best sound in the whole wide world right now! Cas’ gravelly voice and the trampling of Sammy’s moose-sized feet.

“I’m here!” he called back. “Don’t try to behead them! That doesn't quite work out!” The running feet came closer, skidded to a halt and Dean could see their silhouettes at the alley mouth.

“What the… Dean, what is that  _ noise? _ ” Sam wanted to know, pressing his hands to his ears. Cas pushed past him and took on a commanding stance. 

“What seems to be the problem here?” he asked in his ‘I’m-taking-no-nonsense’ voice. Dean gaped at him, but the Kah-Ren turned around, snarling and drooling acidic saliva.

“Sssssuperior?” it asked, lifting both chins in tandem. The severed head gave a soft sob. Cas crossed his arms and raised that one, imperious brow.

“Madam, I am the field-office agent in charge. The only one I answer to is the big boss himself.” Dean had to admire him. Not a word of a lie, even though he wasn’t fully telling her what he was exactly. 

The Kah-Ren simpered. “I have a complaint about agent Sssummersss. I want him fired. He wassss rude, and causssed bodily harm.” Cas looked down at her, arching that brow even further. 

“Madam,’ he rumbled in his deep voice, and Dean just  _ knew _ he was going to  _ lecture _ her. What the hell? This was a horrible monster with acidic spit and claws and it grew extra heads when you chopped one off. Was he going to  _ reason _ it to death? But Cas ignored his and Sam’s baffled semi-protests and carried on. “According to section 12.8 of the handbook, any agent who feels their life is in danger is allowed to use any force they deem necessary to-”

All three of the Kah-Ren’s heads let out an unearthly shriek and the monster just exploded, leaving behind a veritable shower of little strips of paper. Sam bent over and picked a few up. “Receipts? What in the…” Cas sighed and made his way over to Dean. 

“Are you alright, Dean?” he asked, blue eyes already scanning him for injuries.

“Yeah… yeah I- I think so. Cas, Did you just lecture a monster to death?”

A rare semi-smile graced Cas’ face. “I guess you could say that. Come. Let us go to the motel. I think you and Sam could use a strong cup of coffee.” He pulled Dean along and they made their way to where Baby was patiently waiting for them. 


	4. Chapter 4

Once Dean and Sam were provided adequate caffeine to properly function after that occurrence, they retreated to the motel. “Kah-Ren were first spotted in Ancient China,” Cas started their lesson on these weird Mom-sters, as Dean had dubbed them. “The nobility of the Zhou dynasty was feudal and there was plenty of internal warring going on. A lot of second born sons and bastard children felt they were entitled to more than they were given. Legend says their spiteful mumblings in the night birthed the Kah-Ren. It has been said that Yu Huang Shang-Ti, the Chinese God of law, order, justice and creation, got annoyed by the spite and greed, and tried to syphon it off by gathering all the poisonous words together and locking them in a vase, which he then threw into the Yángzǐ Jiāng.” Cas pulled up a picture of the mentioned deity, tossing an urn into a body of water. 

“However, Taotie, the Chinese demon of gluttony, felt robbed of the chance to get what he wanted, and freed the words, which spilled into the water and formed the Kah-Ren. Their acidic saliva is what remains of the poisonous thoughts and words Yu Huang Shang-Ti caught. The only records of what defeats the Kah-Ren, are eons old and they just say that ‘one must call on the God of Justice to overpower the spiteful Kah-Ren.’ It was hard to think how that would apply here, but your description of the modern day version made me think that, as long as I am ‘higher up in the food chain’, as it were, I would outrank her. Having Justice on my side,” Cas smugly ended. 

“So,” Dean wavered, unsure if he understood correctly. “We just have to claim to be more correct?” It sounded like utter hogwash to him, but who was he to question Cas, when the angel had done so admirably?

“Not really. We have to pull rank on them. The Kah-Ren is self-entitled and acts out of the belief that those who complain and threaten, will eventually get what they want. If you worked in retail, you know the type. They will nag and whine and talk over your logical explanation why they cannot get what they want, ultimately demanding to see your manager, or other superior. That’s why the Mom-ster,” His blue eyes twinkled as he said it. “asked me if I had seniority over you, Dean. And it helps if you are familiar with company policies as well.”

Dean slumped and sipped his coffee, feeling utterly defeated. “I never worked retail, Cas. Sammy and I, we’re raised Hunters from the crib. We never had summer jobs at the Walmart or Gas ‘n Sip. We don’t know  _ how _ to pull rank on these things.”

Sam sighed as he drained his cup. “I worked at the campus bookstore for a bit, when I was at Stanford. But that kind of customer was rare there. They were all students, and all trying to make ends meet. So my experience is rusty at best.” 

Cas smiled and grabbed his own coffee. “Then I shall teach you! With the rate at which the level of self-entitlement in the States is growing, I would not be surprised if there will be other encounters. First off: the attitude. You are the highest possible boss. The manager. Never go for lower management, because the Kah-Ren will demand to see your boss if they sense weakness on you.” 

Dean threw up his hand. “Whoa whoa whoa,” he objected. “First things first. Why did the Kah-Ren go for these people that went missing. Sammy, can you unleash your Google-fu on that? What did they have in common? And more importantly, are they still alive?”

Cas nodded. “You are right. That is more important. Just try to remember: Manager trumps customer. Owner trumps manager.” He bent over Sam’s shoulder to see what the search brought to light. Dean shook his head with a sigh. This case was weird.


	5. Chapter 5

They interviewed the ex-husband of the late Mrs. Anderson, while their children were zooming around the house and garden, making a ruckus. “Janice was… difficult to live with at times, agent Copeland. She always made a scene whenever something didn’t fit her idea of how it should be. She often complained about the children’s first nanny, Maria Gonzales. She was too ‘uppity’ according to Janice. I didn’t agree. I liked Maria’s bubbly nature and curious manner, but since the kids are- were mainly under Janice’s care, I had no right to meddle. She fired Maria, and not two weeks later the poor thing is just gone. I wanted to give her my recommendations, because a Latina sadly needs all the best ones she can get. But she was just… gone.” He blinked his eyes in dazed confusion. “The police said she just up and left, but all her stuff was still there. Even her golden crucifix necklace. She only took that off to shower or sleep, she had told me. Scared it would snap and disappear.”

“Does the name James Carpenter ring a bell?” Sam tentatively asked. Dean was scowling at the children in the yard and signalled Cas to come closer with a jerk of his head. 

“Are the kids… normal, Cas? Or do we need to go brush up on our kindergarten hiërarchie?” Cas squinted at the children and shook his head, stating that, although bratty, the kids were 100% human.

Mr. Anderson licked his lips at Sam’s question. “Carpenter? Yeah. She ehm… she had expressed interest in him as a stepfather for Noah and Emma. But then he got in a relation with Ms. Gutlieb, and Janice started nagging about his flaws all of a sudden.” He leaned into Sam’s personal space and whispered. “If I’m being totally honest, agent Copeland, I wouldn’t be surprised if Janice had a hand in his disappearance. Since we divorced, she has been spewing venom about five different persons, and all five just, poof…” He gestured with his hands. “It might be a miracle that I’m still here,” he suddenly realised. “My new girlfriend, Jyothi, she is from India and such a darling… Well, Jyothi has expressed the wish to care for the children, but Janice was opposed. Very much so. That’s why I’m a bit baffled, but glad as well, that she vanished too. I thought she would have my nuts on a plate for trying to take the kids.”

A beautiful, if stern looking, Indian lady of the same age as them entered the house. “Patrick, my love, why are the children here? Not that I mind, but is it wise to just take them on Janice’s watch?” she asked with a melodic lilt to her voice.

Patrick gestured to Sam, Dean and Cas. “Jyothi, these gentlemen are from the FBI. Agents, my girlfriend, Jyothi Balakrishnan. Jyothi.. these men are here because Janice… disappeared, just like those other people. They told me to collect the children and start the procedure to get custody, since their mother isn’t there for them.” 

Jyothi put two slender hands to her mouth. “Oh no. Those poor children. But I am certain that being with you will help them with the loss.” She glanced outside, where Noah was pulling Emma’s pigtail. With two sure strides, Jyothi was at the door and the kids looked up at her, Emma with tears in her eyes, Noah with fear in his. “Kukuraha!” Jyothi spat at the boy. “You will not hurt your sister! You should have respect for everyone. You might think you have the right to harm others since they are not as white, or as rich or as masculine as you, but you are wrong. In the eyes of the Creator, we are all equal, unless you demean yourself by mistreating others. Tell Emma you are sorry, or I will take your Wii from you.” Noah ducked his head and mumbled an apology. “Now you hug your brother and accept his apology,” Jyothi directed Emma. The girl hugged her sibling and even kissed his hair. “There we go,” Jyothi smiled as the kids hugged her too. “You were very good. I will make mango lassi with dinner tonight. Now go, play nicely,” she urged them. The children kissed her and darted back into the yard.

Patrick smiled warmly at the scene. “I think being with Jyothi might benefit the kids,” he remarked offhandedly. Dean watched the siblings start to play quietly in the sandbox, and silently agreed with their father.

After connecting the dots, and finding that every person to have gone missing since Janice divorced Patrick, was one of those five Patrick had mentioned, Sam dug a little deeper into the Kah-Ren’s background and found that her family had owned a island in the river in the nearby town of Hugo. They found a whole bunch of bodies there, varying from freshly killed James, whose corpse was acid eaten, to unidentifiable skeletons, which Cas deemed at least a century old. “It is likely that Janice is responsible for all of these. I think this Kah-Ren has been active a few times during the last decades, taking on a different identity every time,” Cas had concluded. Dean had shuddered and demanded they leave a.s.a.p. Neither Sam nor Cas objected. They built a pyre for the bodies and gave them a salt and burn, just to assure there would be no hauntings.

**Three years later:**

Dean was nervous as hell. He’d slept badly and needed his caffeine fix badly. They were in Harpers Ferry, Iowa, where Sam said there was a possible case. They had searched the house of three different people, all disappeared without a trace. The flowery scent that hung around the first two houses, might have been from the occupants, since they were both ladies, but when they encountered the same smell at the last house, the home of a known bachelor, Dean had started to panic. He didn’t want to say it, but his mind was screaming the name, right until Cas confirmed it. Kah-Ren. The bleach-blonde lady that accosted them outside the bachelor pad had smelled the same, and Sam had spent most of last night connecting the three missing persons to Heather Miller. Dean had spent most of last night revising the phrases Cas had taught them to help gank the Kah-Ren.

He rubbed his eyes as he stepped out into the bright sunlight. “Agent Taylor! Hello!” 

Dean grumbled under his breath, but when he heard the hissing Dean swung around in alarm. It was Heather Miller, her long nails painted hot pink, to match her tracksuit jacket and lipstick, her hair immaculate and very blonde, a pair of sunglasses perched on top of it. Under that, her face was an ugly snarl and her eyes glowed green.

Panic rose like bile in Dean’s throat. He hadn’t even had coffee yet, he was not ready to face this abomination. Adrenaline taking over, he drew himself up and with a stern voice declare: “Madam! I  _ own _ the FBI!” Heather shrieked and exploded in the telltale tickertape of receipts. Dean gaped, as the door behind him opened and, alarmed by the screech, Sam and Cas came storming out. Dean gave a weak chuckle as the receipts flew away on the breeze. “Wow. Easiest case in my life!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first: Translation of the Indian cuss.  
> Kukuraha: Sanskrit for Dog (simple and effective)
> 
> And with that we leave behind the Kah-Ren and the boys. I hope you liked this little story.  
> Feel free to comment or leave kudos, or both.  
> Until the next plotbunny!


End file.
